Torn Skies
by Tacitus Shadowrunner
Summary: Simon Blackwell was a normal teenager, thinking about universities and what to do before he had to get a job. But that was before he had the rug pulled out from under him. that was before he was thrown into the video game of his dreams. Bioshock infinite. But just as he thought he knew everything there was to know, the rug get pulled out from under him again. Rated M for Violence
1. Chapter 1

_**Some of you might have already heard me from my Mass Effect Fanfic. I'm ashamed to say that I haven't finished that either. However, for the coming Nanowrimo—and to get my head off of some things I have decided to write Fanfic for Bioshock Infinite. I hope you like and continue to read this story. And please, please, please! Leave. Comments. For. Me. To. Read. It's hard to know how your story is doing by the statistics of visits alone. I hope you enjoy this Fanfic**_

_**-T.S. **_

Torn Skies Chapter 1 : The Lighthouse

_I removed the pieces of glass from my shoulder and my chest, small as they were they bothered you like the devil. I rolled over so that I could push myself up. Screeching echoed through the air growing farther and farther. "Right, Booker's on to it."_ _I whispered to myself. The idea was simple, worth a try, though not in any way easy. Any idea can be simple, but making it happen was a different matter entirely. _

"_Simon! Simon! They're already here!" I lifted myself to a crouch before shuffling to Elizabeth's side. "What are we going to do?"_

"_What we planned, Elizabeth," First I'd like to thank Songbird for screwing things up, and Handy-Men. And of course last and by all means _least_, Fanatic Columbian stragglers._ _Thank you for screwing up a plan so beautifully conceived! "This is going to take more work than what we planned—"_

"_I can do it!"_

_I nodded softly at her slight insecurity, "I was never going to deny your ability just telling you," I held her hand tight and smiled, she replied with a smile that seemed to be able to clear the dark Columbian sky. For a moment I wished that everything would stop and we could go away. Far Away. I stood up and faced the building's wooden walls. They were already thin, and though they hadn't collapsed Songbird had done his work. I sent a flock of crows with one hand then I let my Charge Vigor build up. Bouts of pain, and nuisance, can be heard from outside. Here we go. I downed a vial of blue salt and felt my stomach warm up with power. _

_In a second my _Charge_ would build up to a its limit, I reached down for my hand cannons. But the shuffling of feet stopped me. Elizabeth ran close to myself. "Whatever happens. I am glad I met you Simon Blackwell."_

"_So am I." She tiptoed up and planted kiss on my lips. Her lips, were warms and delicious despite the frigid Columbian air. "Now go, I have to do this alone, stay here and stay safe. Don't worry about me! If you do, remember this," Pause for effect. "I'm Simon Blackwell!" I grinned wider than I should, considering the circumstances, and then reached for the two Colt Hand Cannons at my waist. Holding one in each hand I cocked the barrel, then I reached in for the built up _Charge.

And then I let loose.

I fell to a crouch, following the staircase up the tower. A guard stood with his back facing to me. I pulled out my blade which grew to its full size after I threw it into the air. I caught it again, and then I rammed I blade into the man's back. The bloodied tip came out the man's chest in a small fountain of blood. I climbed to the top of the building where I found what I was looking for.

Admiral Havelock held Emily in his vise-like grip as he started to monologue. I have no time for this. I hit bend time and watched as the world bleached to grey, raised my crossbow and fired at his head. The bolt hit and as he began to fall backwards I blinked forth and caught Emily before the admiral plummeted to the ground below. SUCCESS!

Not a perfect ghost gameplay, not even low chaos, but I smiled as I achieved the decent ending, and watched as the title _Dishonored _flashed across the screen. I smiled and saved the game before turning my computer off. I walked over to my bed and shifted the pile of Brandon Sanderson books away and made space for sleeping. Before I could lay down however, a voice rang from below. It was mother. Walked out my room and down to my father's study. I saw them together, my father sitting with his face partially down, and mother looked at me. the eerie grew of the yellow street lights bathed the room. The pair looked sullen. Oh, damn…

I knew it was childish, I knew it wasn't right, but I ran up the stairs anyway—like child—and I slammed the door behind me. It wasn't everyday that you father's book deal, the one you were depending on to pay for your university, was cancelled and the publisher declared bankruptcy. But fate was a filthy little bugger. Two years, that was how long it took for us to find a book deal. Two years! I kicked the table hard enough for a half a dozen books to fall off. Maybe it was a Krav Maga perk, but it was still a hard kick by itself. I lay on the bed, angry enough to tear the whole world apart. At this rate I might as well go work for a pizza restaurant! What did I ever do? What in the hell did I ever do? I heard knocking at my door put I didn't want to listen. I grabbed my phone, but I put it on airplane mode and put on music. The I went out the window unto my roof. I watched the saw the sky and its twinkling stars. I pulled in my earphones and let music fuel my refuge.

The sky, however, wasn't what I came up here for. I climbed a little higher and stared into the distance. Then savored the sight. The city sparkled and twinkled far towards the horizon. Stark against the night sky. And for a moment I loved it. Just me, myself and the sky. Alone, I was at peace. I could think clearly, not clouded by anger, though I still felt intensely pissed with my life. Then again, it wasn't my parent's fault I realized. It didn't take me long to convince myself that what did was probably cruel reaction to what was an already difficult situation my parents had at hand. I guess I better apologize. But of all things I still wanted to remain here, under the stars, in the dim light of a distant metropolis. Just a little longer I convinced myself, even though I was close to shivering. Just a little… longer…

The first things I realized waking up was the spray of wind and water that basked my face. Where the hell..? I was in a boat! A boat to where? I panicked looking all around me there was little less than the sea. One that was rather stormy. I looked around warily: there were two oars. But there was nothing, scanning the horizon it was stormy seas all around. Dark skies and an even darker water. Without anything to guide me, I was bound to row in circles. I had to find something, something to tell the way. something—There! In the middle of the sea, in the middle of just about nowhere in fact, was a lighthouse! The light vanished but reappeared as the light rotated. I was reminded of _Bioshock_, when Jack apparently crashed in the middle of nowhere and there was a lighthouse. Though he fell in a plane crash, he didn't land in a boat. I manned the oars and rowed forward. Already drenched, I pocketed my phone, hoping that the case would do its job and guard against the water. No hope of getting signal here, though.

The tricky thing was timing your approach, and while I swam out to sea on several occasions, this was an entire boat. It was not the same as swimming, with a waves that threatened to dash your pathetic little rowboat against the rocks you would think twice before attempting anything. It was like trying to eat rice with a single chopstick—uh… granted not a very good analogy. Get the boat up to the pier; simple not easy. I worked the oars hard against the raging sea, going nearer and nearer. Until and wave swept me. I was so focused on trying to get to the pier the wave swept me off my ass, and just like that the boat missed the pier entirely.

I did the only thing I could: I panicked.

Wildly working the oars, I tried to get the boat into a boat house next to the pier. I had to get there. Because beyond that there was nothing but rocks to be dashed upon or endless sea. I was feeling quite confident until I realized that I was coming it too fast. Too late to stop I braced myself as the small rowboat rode the incoming wave and smashed into the boathouse. A crack sent a jolt throughout my body; the boat was gone. When it was over, the boat had a hole which, despite being small, was allowing for a lot of water to come in. Getting up to get out of the boat I noticed something. Something akin ringing. Bells? No, not bells. More like coins, chinking. They came from underneath the seat. I looked and sure enough there was a small box filled with coin. Silver coins with eagles on them, the box had dozens of them. I was about to examine them when I realized I was in a sinking boat. And out I went. Spilling some coins in the effort. But I couldn't care less, there was light inside. It seemed warm and I was drenched. I pocketed what I could and trodden on. In wet clothes and soggy slippers.

But even as I approached the light house there was something quite eerie about it. something was not right. Despite that: out here, drenched and cold—in there, nice and warm. I had no difficulty in choosing. As I approached a man emerged from inside. He carried a lantern and what must have been cane.

"Excuse me!" I yelled above the crashing waves, "Do you think I could shelter inside for a bit, maybe use the phone?" he stayed silent. "Excuse me sir? Hello? Yes? I've been in a boat and was sailing about and I am rather lost do you think I could—"

"Turn around, son. And go back from whence you came!" The gruff voice had no difficulty speaking clearly, despite the raging sea.

"I would if I could but I don't even know where I am. I don't even have a boat anymore" I took another step, desperate to get out of the rain. "Could I please shelter in there for a bit? I'm terribly—"

"Get back. Son." The man lifted his cane.

It wasn't cane.

It was a rifle, and he had aimed right at me. Inside, some of my martial arts instinct came alive. There was an itch, an itch to get him. "Stay back, son, then I want you to go back from where you came from and see to it that—" the wave emerged from nowhere and swept the both of us nearly all they way off the pier. When the man got up, I was waiting for him. I kicked leg, not nearly enough to break it only paralyze it. He tried to aim the rifle but it was too long, I snapped it back down to the wooden floor and out of his hand with my foot. Another wave. This time he got up first, kicked me in the stomach, but discontinued. He looked for his rifle. I got back up to my feet in time to meet his rifle.

The gun was halfway up when I grabbed the end and pushed it out of my way. A shot was fired. I landed a strike into his nose that left him paralyzed but still in the fight. I drew fist back to his and then—WAVE…

I was swept off my feet and fell unto the pier. I held on with all I could. He was swept off his feet and fell unto the rocks below. His body—and the rifle—was swept away by the waves. I cursed at the sea and walked into the building—then froze. "Of thy sins, I will wash thee." Where have I heard that before? "From Sodom shall I lead thee." I rushed out to see that lighthouse. Then rushed the see the writings. Then I rushed up the stair but then stopped. I took the coin out of my pocket. One side was engraved with a scroll a key and sword. Then, with hands shaking, I turned it over. And with eyes wide and mouth agape, I saw the words _Columbia_.

"I'm in Bioshock Infinite…" I whispered. "I'm in Bioshock Infinite!" I yelled. "I'm in a video game! I'm in a video game! A Bloody awesome one!" I yelled my head off, it was pretty awesome and who cares? It wasn't like there was anyone else on the li—

"Billy, you found out what that noise was!" yelled a voice. I wasn't alone. The figure came down the stair, holding a hammer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

I was most definitely not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Torn Skies-Chapter 2: The Precursory

I froze and my blood ran cold. "Who the he—" I ran up all the way up the stairs and crashed into him. Knocking us back, up, and unto the second floor. My fist stretched back and then landed on his jaw. The hammer clattered onto the floor, but his lit cigarette was pushed up and into my face. Disoriented, I fell back—eyes closed as I dusted off the hot ash. Moments later, the sole of a boot landed squarely in my stomach. With what sense I had left at the moment, I went for the dropped hammer and swung it like a madman. It must have worked because he stepped away. I stared him in the face as I spun the hammer in my hands. His eyes darted to the staircase. Then he bolted, turning over furniture to block his escape. I had to lift the table he dropped, though some bits of ceramic lay shattered on the ground. I rushed up the stairs—dangerously behind considering what was up there. Knowing the entrance to Columbia lay just ahead, I had to get there before he did.

Just before I reached the top though, the man was back. This time, with a revolver in hand. But he made mistake. He hadn't clicked the hammer back, and was doing it now as he descended to meet me. _Bad idea_. As son as I was within range, I brought the hammer down as hard as I dared, striking the revolver out of his hands, while crushing certain bones in the process. He fell back down several steps. I dropped the hammer and went for the gun. I ran up five steps to retrieve the fallen revolver, while he scrambled up to his feet and up the stairs. His hands were leaving bloody handprints on the wall. I struggled with the revolver in my hand but got it up—conveniently with the hammer already locked back. Then I pulled the trigger.

For the second time that day I pulled the trigger, this time though I finished the job. The blood splattered against the wall behind him, though the bag kept most of the bones and brains contained. It was a gruesome sight nonetheless.

Earlier I had made my way up to the rocket-pod-thing until I realized I didn't know the code. Having only played the game once, I never bothered to remember that early into the game. So I went back down to fetch the man. He was already bleeding to death but I dragged him up sat him in the chair and slapped him to consciousness. What was initially a scenario to scare him into giving the key, though, got out of hand. But he was hardheaded bastard anyway.

Going back down also gave me an opportunity to realize one of the great pleasures of the _Bioshock_ games. Looting and scavenging. I checked his pockets to find more silver dollars to add to my collection, but looking around some more I found something even better than loose change: DRY CLOTHES!

Not even once during the time I put them on did it bother me that I was putting on the clothes that could have belonged to one of the men I had put to death. Still though, he kind of looked my stature, medium build, shoulders not too wide, and six feet nought. I put on white shirt, a pair of black striped trousers, a waistcoat, and then an overcoat to shield me against the rain. And since I failed to find a holster for my revolver, it functioned well to conceal the weapon. The revolver was an old Colt, probably a military revolver. Though I had better known it as the Hand Cannon. I put it another two bullets to fill in for the ones I had used, then took a box twelve rounds.

The weather had barely changed. The sea still raged up and down, and the sky still poured buckets unto me. I smiled, glad for the overcoat, and continued to climb up the stairs till I reached the very top. I hope it's worth it. _Scroll-Key-Key-Sword-Sword._ I stood in silence for a moment, cursing the dreadful wait. Did I get it wrong? No, I didn't. Then the man must have lied, I turned around cursing when the sky lit up in red. I smiled yet again.

The seat was warm and comfortable, and the room—though damp—was dry. I clambered on, readying myself for the trip, when a thought crossed my mind. I removed my Hand Cannon and tucked it in the rear of my belt. _Not this time!_ I put my hands in place as the seat clamped it down. The seat swiveled. As a voice on the speaker rambled on some nonsense about pilgrimage and safeguards. Then the seat swiveled forwards so that I faced the floor. It worked: my gun was still safely tucked away. _Ascension in five seconds, four seconds, three, two, one. Ascension. _The pod might have rocked me about, the seat might have been uncomfortable, the voice in the PA might have been annoying, but boy… was it an experience. I was whooping my head off._ Five thousand feet. Ten thousand feet, fifteen thousand feet… Hallelujah._ The cloud faded away as I welcomed what might have been one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. _Oh my giddy aunt…_

However, like all things I liked, they were abruptly spoiled. This time by the untimely arrival of the face of Comstock, The Prophet. Then of course, the scene changed continually until I reached the chapel. The pod was secured by a kind of elevator mechanism and then began to descend. If the face of Comstock pissed me off then the things that came next threw me into a raging fit.

I was born and raised a Christian, both my parents were. The religious zealotry and racism that was the norm on Columbia made a bile rise in my throat. It was sick and twisted, and had veered dangerously away from the teachings I had come to love as a child. The building was filled with alcoves and chapels to pray in, but not in God. In man: Washington, Jefferson, and Ben Franklin. _Comstock._ The sound of footsteps alarmed me, I twisted to see two people in whitewashed robes meet me.

"Someone from below?"

"Someone new!"

"Another pilgrim, free from the Sodom below!"

"Bless the Prophet!"

"Welcome son, to Columbia. To God's country on earth."

I scratched the back of my head nervously, "Um… thanks—Thank You! Can you show me the way out?"

"It's that way…" I followed the man's directions till I arrived at the main hall of the church. Immense in size, filled with pools and lit up with hundreds of small candles. I was confident that I was going to enjoy this and was thinking of the things I would do when I got into the city up until I saw the entrance. Between freedom and me, were the Murderous Priest and his Company of Killer Choirs. _I know, working on the name_. I wasn't going to sit back as that zealot dunk my head into the water. Even if it is only to _half_ drown me. I had been baptized once, that was all I needed. I had to find another way out. There was a small door to the side, anything than drowning.

Well almost anything. I stepped through the door to find men caged, Asians, and African, anyone with a skin that was slightly less than fair; and immediately regretted my decision. They were suspended above the ground in cages to small to do anything in. but that wasn't the worst things. It was _the crows_; scores of them, pecking at the flesh of men still living but too weak to act. This was what happened to the 'wrong' pilgrims."Hey! Hey! Hey!" I yelled out flapped my arms and rattled the cages. The crows cawed and took flight. But the caged people were too weak to even move and after a while the crows went back to eating amd pecking. I repeated my routine of flapping my arms and acting the madman, but the crows would only return to eating. There must have been something I could do.

"Hey who are you?"

"What in the world are you doing here."

_Uh oh_. I turned it seemed the local Klux Klan had decided to convene. Oh wait I was in Columbia half the people are probably Klux Klan. I opened my mouth to speak but I hesitated. My revolver was still tucked in the small of my back. Hard to reach especially now… _Uh Oh_…

"I was simply… seeing where all the negroes went," was that the correct colloquial? I hope it was, though saying felt extremely wrong. "Good to see they're taken care off."

"Who are you?"

"The names Simon, Simon Blackwell. I just arrived from the surface. The uh… Sodom below."

"Has Preacher Witting baptized you yet?" one said approaching

"Uh… no not yet I decided to look around more, I'm quite the sightseer you see," I laughed nervously. His expressions tightened, and he frowned heavily.

"Oh dear, then you better come with me—"

"NO!—I mean, I would like to go by myself, if you don't mind." but he still grabbed my arm.

"I'll take you."

"No." I reached under my coat and gripped the handle of the Hand Cannon. I pulled it out. And jabbed it into the man's stomach. The other man cursed and pulled out his Mauser Pistol, but not before I had my barrel aimed for his head. _It couldn't be harder than at the lighthouse._ It wasn't. I pulled the trigger, _splat_. Then I turned to the man holding my hand: a fist had formed and was ready to pummel me. I turned my revolver slightly and jabbed it to the side of his head. _SPLAT_. The nearly headless corpse fell to the ground. And I was surprised.

None of the blood sprayed on me. I searched him and found only three silver dollars. Walking over to the second—or rather—the first corpse, and picked up the pistol. The Mauser had all twelve bullets in the mag and another on the holster. Finally, a holster! I rummaged through his clothes looking for some more silver dollars and stopped.

I pulled out a sloshing blue bottle, with a crow for a cap. Oh dear… Oh yes! Murder Of Crows. A Vigor, my first.

The two sides fought as I watched and held the bottle in my hand. Sloshing with the liquid inside it. Would I dare? Yes I would. But what would it cost me? Anything would be worth it. Anything? Any. Thing. I plucked the cap off. I tried to think of something cool to say before downing the thing…

"Oh well…" I put the bottle to my lips and downed the liquid. It tasted like raw bile and… blood. The flavor though, was only the opening. I once dove into icy waters, with my relatives, we took a swim in the Elbe river in winter. It felt like hundreds of small needle drilling into me. This was that. Then times a thousand. I grunted and fell to a crouch as the pain climaxed and faded away. And then I felt it. Power; raw and warm. It felt like a nice full meal—a warmth in my stomach. I never felt better. It was then I figured what was should have said and said it. "I'm Simon Blackwell. Nothing scathes me." It was a bit pompous that, but it had a cool ring to it. _I think I'll keep it_.

There was no door out of the room, but there were windows. And out the windows were bushes, they made the fall much softer as I leapt out and circled around to see the trio of statues that greeted you when you arrived in the game. Jefferson, Franklin, Washington. I bent down to wash my face and wash away the filthy after taste.

"Our Prophets fills our lungs with water, so they may better love the air. Welcome to Columbia son." I smiled the best I could but made my way quickly to the gates. Picking up some Silver Eagles along the way. Well, who would have known that Columbia was so rich people threw away money. I quickly made my way to the gates anxious to get out. Into the city. I coughed, then coughed again, then found it a little difficult to breathe. But I recovered. And finally pushed the doors wide open.

_Well I'll be damned._

_Author's Note: Well next chapter at last. I've been so busy with school that it's gotten into my writing time. But I've got some chapters done and lined up for editing. So expect some chapters pretty soon. Hope you like my OC not much at this point, but I do intend to make him like The Doctor. If you've never seen Doctor Who…_

_YOU NEED TO WATCH IT NOW!_

_Enough said, hope you enjoy it._

_-T.S._


	3. Chapter 3

Torn Skies Chapter 3: R&R

The skies stunned me silent. I had hiked mountains before, and gone to old cities as well. None of them could possible compare to the combination of the two that I had before me. _ And I thought the PC graphics were unbeatable. _The beauty of the old architecture coupled with the feeling of being over the clouds. The surreality of it all left me staring opened mouthed. Now I truly understood why people called this place heaven. It wasn't easy to see it sitting behind a screen with a mouse and keyboard (or controller, or whatever your poison is).

Continuing down the steps I breathed the brisk sky air. It might have been me, but it begun to feel the small sensations of short-breath. _I guess_ _the game doesn't really cover that part did it?_ In the distance I could make begin to make out the statue of Father Comstock, standing proud and heroic in the middle of a square, his hair and coat fluttering in the wind. I walked on and on, breathing in the sight, and what little air my lungs could take in. _Stupid lungs, why now? Just when everything gets exciting you bloody fail._ I continued for the amount of time I could until I had to stop and lean beside a hot dog stand. Turns out, if your short-breath/high altitude problems weren't handled by taking long deeps breaths, then breathing in sizzling meat would.

"You look like you could use one, boy." The hot dog man said. He motioned to one of the hot dogs he had sizzling on the grill. Only now did I feel my stomach growl. It felt like I had just ran a race on an empty stomach. Then somebody shoved a feast in my face. _Hmm… _

I took a Silver Eagle out of my pocket and traded it for the man's hot dogs. It took me only a couple of minutes for me to wolf it all down. I guess killing people takes a large toll on the body. "Fancy a soda?" I quickly nodded and handed over another silver coin. I gulped down the contents of the bottle and set it aside. While walking on, I felt the warmth in my stomach increase. I paused then remembered, in the game, soda adds to your Salt. I smiled of course, proud of having remembered this, and made my way on to the rest of the city. The game never really discussed this, and no other person else I saw had that problem. But it seemed my body had a difficulty trying to breath in the high altitude air. I never had asthma; I spent a lot of time doing sports and I never had breathing problems. However it was clear to me now that my lungs weren't working properly. More often than I liked my vision filled with stars. They were tiny and scarce, but it frightened me. Unless I was to live the rest of my days in Columbia in peace, this short-breath problem would likely get me killed in a fight. I got a feeling it wasn't going to be.

Columbia _was_ breath taking—in every sense of the word.

Not a trace of the stormy sky was left, just clear skies. It cast beautiful shadows across the streets—the light refracting beautifully off of the trees and their leaves. I continued to walk under the shade. Until I arrived at the fair… I could hear a man shouting in the distance. Excitedly announcing the wonder that was Vigors. Two men dressed in red clothing were shooting Vigors of fire and electricity and lifting one another into the air. "…would you believe me if I said a man could shoot electricity from his fingers…" the man rattled on. I watched as the pair near the bottom of the stage entertained the crowd with their Vigor abilities. I walked on to the rest of the fair. Stopping at _Hunt Down Vox_, I decided to try my luck with the rifle. "Step right up boy, grab yourself a gun and give it a try. I'll even throw in a bonus if you hit Daisy Fitzroy!"

"Sure." I took a deep breath, which worried me, if I had to take breaths like this all the time how would my shooting fare. I shouldered the rifle, and racked the cocking handle back. I've gone shooting once, with my father and my uncle. I remembered as much as I could. Shooting was simple enough, the closer you were the easier it was. But this was a rifle, you shot things over distances with it, and the farther your targets was the more could go wrong in between. You had to adjust for bullet drop, you had to account for windage, even a miniscule deviation can be ridiculous if pulled over long distances. I pulled off a shot to the side, _hmm I can handle this. _ The bell rang, and off I went. Bringing down the Vox Populi with air gun bullets to their tiny cardboard figures. "Oh look! There goes Dai—" I didn't even wait for him to finish. I blew her away with a shot and returned to the rest until the timer dinged.

"Well I'll be… we have a winner." I collected the first prize and smiled rather smugly. A small crowd had gathered around me, they clapped their hand a little before dispersing. Then I walked on to the next booth. _Cast Out the Devil_, the man smiled as I drank down the vigor. _Bucking Bronco_ it said. The curtain lifted to a familiar scene, a woman and her child, with bold hair and blue eyes, and a man dressed in a red demon costume snuck up on them. I extended my hand at the devil. Nothing happened. I did it again and again and then the timer ran out. "You sure you know how a vigor works boy?" the man laughed heartily. "Care to try again?

"Actually I would." The man nodded as the curtain revealed the scene again. This time I didn't try to use it, I didn't even lift my hands. I thought. I felt the warm power inside me and then I imagined it channeled. I willed it, I would with my arms or my legs. I was working a muscle I had never felt before. And out it came. Not with my even with my hands, it just came and knocked the devil into the air. I did it three times, and though I felt the power in my gut deplete, using a vigor filled me with a sense of power that I never before felt. The sensation of being in control of such sheer force was awesome. I collected the prize and walked off.

_So that means I don't even have to use my hands. _It was a motoric skill. But one that was invisible and required salt at the same time. It was as simple as moving a finger, but not all things simple were easy. "Hey handsome," I turned to see a gorgeous young woman with basket filled with a batch of green vigors, "Ever been cheated by those things of metal? Ever lost a penny to a vending machine? Has a payphone ever refused to connect to with a beloved spouse?"

"Well no." I said blushing, _No! take control, _"but then again I never tried to call you before?" now it was her turn to blush. I took the bottle she offered and screwed the cap off. "It's time to take back control from the men of metal! With Possession. downing it I felt my vision blur around me. A green wraith of a woman flew circle around me. The girl blew me a kiss. "One whisper and they're all ears, honey." I blinked and pulled out some silver dollars. She stopped my hand with hers, "No need…"

"It's free?"

"For you handsome, almost everything is." She winked. I might just settle down here, maybe…

I handed her the money anyways and thanked her before I walked on. It wasn't long till another view took my breath away. Though normally I wasn't afraid of heights standing on the edge of the street still put on edge (no pun intended). The city floated along the sky, with clouds both above and below where I stood. The sun was still shining brightly. Two officers conversed about their Skyhook in the distance. I could help but lean in and eavesdrop.

"Neat ain't it? and they upped the RPM too!" the man Brandished his Skyhook.

"Puts _harmless tool _myth to rest." The man laughed heartily.

"Yeah sure…" then he gave it a good spin. "So this button here activates—" the man's companion however could not help but interrupt excitedly.

"The magnet. Then the other one turns if off. And you squeeze the lever on the handle to adjust the speed of the rotation. Dang it I want one…" when I had heard all there seems to be heard. I took a step, but then felt my knees buckle. I fell to the street. I hung on to the railing, not only to support myself but also for the fear of falling off the city itself. I felt my head throb and my vision fill with stars, not good.

"Son… son. You alright?" the two officers I eavesdropped were helping me up. I almost felt bad at that point. Almost.

"Yeah, just not too fond of heights," I lied. "I think I'll be fine."

"Yeah I had a friend, he had the exact same problem. But he eventually realized that the only way to heaven was up. Think he's gotten over it." he chuckled to himself, but I wasn't paying much attention to him. One of them had the skyhook still in his arm.

"Say where do I get one of those."

"Sorry, but you only get these if you join the force. However, I figure if you join the Columbia Youth You can get your hands on one even sooner. You're a new comer right? I think they'll be glad to add you to their numbers. The Columbia Youth will always accept strapping _white_ lads like you." I couldn't ignore his emphasis on the 'white'. "Now off you go maybe you'll be in time for the raffle." _The raffle? Oh bloody hell… that_. I nodded vigorously and started to walk as normally as I could manage only collapse onto a bench. It was under a statue of… what the hell? The Statue that was one of a man changed into that of a woman, first the air around with rippled, then the air filled with energy, electricity surround it it and it changed. "Lutece…" I whispered to myself, still a bit shaking that it changed before my very eyes.

I let my head fall between my knees and sucked in as much air as my lungs would take, then another, then another… how did I get here. Breath, How am I going to get back. Breath, My family am I just going to vanish? Never to be found again? Breath, and Columbia? Breath, How in the blazes did I arrive in Columbia. Breath, it's not in a different time, nor in a different places Breath, it just doesn't exist. Breath at least that rules out time travelling and teleportation. Am I in a different world? A Video Game? Breath breath breath breath…

"Excuse me…" I looked up. "I'd like to leave something there." A little girl of about stood with a basket in her hand. "May I?"

"Of course you may." I gathered as much strength as my dying body would allow me, and stood up. "What's you name little girl?"

"Constance, sir. Constance Field." She brandished a Voxophone from her basket along a rose. She set it on the chair. "Who's that for?"

"It's for the Ms. Lutece." Then she pulled something else. It was a plush toy in the form of none other than Songbird. She cuddled with it a little then left it near the rose. I smiled before I had to take another big breath. It was only getting worse. "Are you alright?" I nodded reluctantly, "Were you baptized? I was baptized when I came here. I hated it but mom says if I didn't I would get sick. Anyways, have a great day sir." I sighed as the little girl ran off, then sucked in another big breath. Here we go…

I arrived at the raffle seething with anger. Then I watched the raffle burning and aching to use my crow vigor on the monsters. There Jeremiah Fink stood shouting expletives and encouraging the cheering and raging crowd as they threw their baseballs

"Don't be shy throw! Ladies and gentlemen today is a small step. For today we throw baseballs, but tomorrow we burn the Sodom below." The Chinese couple on the stage had stood had little chance against the juggernaut of a crowd. They stage grew more and more bloodied, the couple staggered and fell beneath the endless wave of baseballs. "Don't worry about the stage, ladies and gentlemen. We'll mop it all up. WITH THE HAIRS ON THEIR HEADS!"

_That is it! You're going down you son of a bitch! _I charge forward at a brisk pace, but before I could break out into full sprint I staggered. Falling to my knees I felt my vision cloud more than ever before. Everything was shining, like light being refracted through diamonds. Oh no oh no _oh no!_ I knew I was going to hit the ground face first. Even before that happened, as I tilted forwards, I was already out.

"What do you think?" said a woman.

"I think he's rather smart and at the same time—" said a man.

"He's stupid."

"I wouldn't say stupid."

"Idiotic?"

"Ignorant."

"I suppose," the woman said, "The less you know—"

"The more you don't and the more you do."

"The less you actually feel…"

I knew that voice. I didn't even have to hear them, they way they talked gave it away. "I was hoping I wouldn't meet you too and at the same time I did."

"He might be ignorant brother, but he sure is wittier than DeWitt. No pun intended." I chuckled nonetheless. And drew in a sharp breath—the air in here was back to normal. I sat up to see where 'here' was. It was tailor shop. There were waist coats and trousers and coats. I looked up to see the two Luteces standing to one side. Robert took Rosalind's measurements as they talked in front of a mirror.

"I think he's noticed it sister."

"He was bound to soon enough."

"Notice what?" I asked. They both gave me a look that you gave a three year-old who just drooled on your lap. I took another deep—_oh that's right_. "The air you mean?"

"It's safe to say you've noticed it the entire time you've been in the streets of Columbia."

"What my brother is trying to say, is that you've been given the answer for as long as you have had the problem. Now stop and think about this for a moment." I blinked, _I've always had the answer. I must have missed it then._ _Think! _ I remembered as much as I could from the moment I came unto Columbia. I still could not see it."

"He's still not seeing it… should we help him sister?"

"No… but I do think that his lungs should learn to love the air more."

Wait! _Our Prophets fills our lungs with water so they may better love the air. _The man at Church. _Were you baptized? I was baptized when I came here. I hated it but mom says if I didn't I would get sick._ Constance field. "So you think I should—" The space in front of the mirror was empty.

"I say you better get going." Robert said. "You have to hurry if you're going to make it in time." they were at eh counter with a large vat of water.

"In time for what?" I said slowly approaching the counter, the sign said _Lutece & Lutece Tailor Shop._

"To save Booker of course!" Rosalind said as if listing the groceries.

"How am I do that?" I took of my coat and waistcoat and shirt. As the two held my sides, lowering me into the water

"Just get to Monument Island. Things will sort themselves from that point on."

I nodded, "Wait! How did I get here? How will I ever get back?" Rosalind lifted her eyebrow at her twin—or her alternate self or whatever—he nodded. Then she looked down at me. "We weren't the ones who got you here. We were involved but… we weren't exactly the ones who got you here."

"Then who was it?" But they didn't answer, the just shoved me under the water.

"The anarchist was first witnessed wrecking havoc at the Columbia Raffle & Fair. He attacked the raffle assaulting women and children and brutally murdering the men and women of the Police…" I ignored the radio as I came to. I was already in my shirt, and my waist coat was neatly folded next to my weapons. I glanced at the counter, the Luteces were gone, the vat of water was nowhere to be seen, even the sign now said. _Lowell & Sons. Tailor Shop._ All that showed they were ever here was box of ammunition, a Devil's Kiss Vigor, and a not saying good luck, signed R&R. I collected the ammo and drank down the vigor.

I felt spicy coming down my throat, then I saw my arms burn. The pain excruciatingly passed. I ran outside knowing I had little time to lose. The streets were littered with bodies. Booker had been here.

"Hey! Who are you?" Police woman came forward with her pistol, and I came forward with my Revolver. I drew then fired, I missed. She fired and missed and I fired again. This time I didn't miss. I ran as fast as I could knowing that booker has had a far head start and that the Police were bound to come to see the ruckus I just caused. I sprinted all the way to the Blue Ribbon. Running to back of the shop, I didn't see any of the Luteces. But that wasn't the surprise.

The surprise was to see that the map of the city had already changed. The entire roof tops Booker fought through was gone.

"The City is in constant change, so you have to be as well?" Rosalind was right behind me all of a sudden.

"We were told you improvised well?" Robert asked appearing right beside me as well. "Something about being dishonored or something like that." I caught the reference even if he didn't. Robert pulled a box from his side then opened.

Skyhook.

"Remember Simon, the more you think you know—" Rosalind said

"The less you do." Robert finished.


	4. Chapter 4

Torn Skies Chapter 4: The Island

Controlling the lever on the skyhook was quite easy, it's like the brakes on a motorbike. Only it works the opposite way. You press it harder to go faster. I expected to arrive somewhere in the Columbia closer to Booker, maybe the Fraternity of Ravens building, or the Station. But once again I managed to arrive ahead of him.

I headed straight on Monument Island. And something told me that the Luteces knew all about it. A gondola materialized through the thick clouds. It was filled to the brim with people. Another gondola appeared, similarly packed. There were three of them it appeared all of them filled to the brim with people, and they all looked so very restless. _What's going on?_ The statue in the distance grew clearer and the 'island' it was on appeared as well. The final gondola was till staying on the island, it was being loaded with crates, and would soon depart.

Unfortunately it didn't look like it was departing any time soon. And, unfortunately as well, my unique mode of transport did allow much room of stealth. I was gliding along the sky, moving at a high speed, with clothes that greatly differed from the sky in my background. When the first man turned around he spotted me immediately. I detached the from the rail and pointed the skyhook at him, then magnetized the tool. I felt pieces of metal in my clothing and my guns pull towards it. However I continued to glide towards the direction I aimed, the man stumbled to the ground. I figured that the magnetic pull must be stronger where you pointed it. It felt like falling. Falling the wrong way, I was falling towards the man.

I landed on his chest, with a rather nasty crunch. _Thanks for the soft landing._ Is it the false Shepard?

"It don't look like him!"

"I don't care he's not supposed to be here. Gut the bastard." _Thanks for the warning! _I pulled my pistol and held it with both hands. Unless you're a spec ops soldier, or some movie badass, you shoot with both hands, lest your bullets go to waste. It hit one in the chest twice, he went down with a gurgling sound. I turned to the second man and fired twice again. One hit his neck while the other slammed into the signs behind him. The two others ran for cover behind quarantine signs the supposedly set up I ran back to the gondola for cover. Arriving there I ran into the surprised gun totting man standing at the helm. I emptied my magazine into his abdomen,

Ejecting the spent magazine, I inserted a new one and picked up the machine gun that was dropped. Pulling back the charging handle, I waited for the lull in their gunfire. Then I jumped out of cover. I brought the gun up to my shoulder, gripped the gun tightly, and pulled trigger. Shooting a pistol was quite hard, but compared to the machine gun it was like walking a dog. The machine gun felt like riding a bull. It a yobbish thing. A bursts was your only chance of hitting anything beyond fifteen feet.

Nonetheless I kept at the trigger, I needed to suppress them not necessarily hit any of them. Climbing out of the gondola I kept a steady volley of lead their way. I was halfway to them then the mechanism clicked empty. I dropped it and made for the nearest crate. A hail of lead scraped my shoulder as I arrived behind the crate and the crate splintered under the same hail of lead. Blood seeped through my shoulder. I tied a handkerchief to keep pressure on the wound.

_Well, here goes_. A massive dark cloud began to shroud me as I felt the salt in my stomach dwindle away. The cloud twisted away to reveal scores of crows, who flew and began to viciously rip apart my enemies apart. _Scream all you want_, I rose from my cover with my pistol cocked and a round in the barrel. I made short work of the two and left them to the mercy of the crows, who pecked ferociously at the bodies. It wasn't long till their mangled bodies fell to the ground. Their faces frozen in a silent scream. It reminded me tad of the Rats in _Dishonored_. The shadow of the monument cast a dark shadow over all of the "island". The gate was locked but it wasn't a problem for someone one with a Skyhook. It seemed like the gondola had carried off everyone that was on this island.

Well… Almost everyone.

Creeping slowly around the side of the statue held on to the statue as much as I could. I wasn't afraid of height, but standing that high up with that amount of wind and a miniscule chain fence to keep you from plummeting to you death would make you want to hold on to something. I had examined every bit of the tower and like the game there wasn't anyone. I wasn't surprised. The observation rooms were all empty and the rooms spied into were devoid of Elizabeth. I felt my skin crawl walking through all those rooms, an entire life locked in solitude—every moment of my lonely life watched by scientists. Like a crowd waiting for the animal to do a trick—it was a circus. A sick and twisted circus.

My like for Columbia was dwindling away like leaves on an autumn day. If I was right then what it did next would take me to Elizabeth, and to meet her would be quite interesting. I remembered her figure in the game, her blue and white dress, her long hair. Even I couldn't deny that she looked beautiful. And I had seen beforehand, even the best of PC' graphics shrivels in the shadow of reality. I stepped into room at the top of the tower, Elizabeth wasn't in the library below either. And I decided to be careful, lowering myself so that I didn't tumble down like Booker does. I landed a rather roughly on the railing, but then softly on the elevated carpet floor near the window. There was no sound besides that. _Silence in the Library_ I thought, remembering an episode of my favorite TV show. No one was here so I just decided to stroll around when it hit me.

DeWitt had a key, he could get out once he arrived. My guns were all I had next to a pocketful of silver dollars. Seeing a door at the end of the room. This was it, the cage where the Lamb had been kept all her life. Something so destined to fly, but confined it a space barely enough for it to flap its wings. Quite sad. The door was open a crack so I peered through, not seeing anything I decided to step through. And then there was a low screeching sound and large thump behind me. Like something heavy falling down. And then the mechanical whirring of gears, along with something like a hiss. _Aw, hell… _

I turned around to see the seven feet tall iron beast. A flying one. It was tall, casting a shadow that would make most shy back. It had a complicated mechanic cranking sound inside that told, not only was it powerful, it was intricate and complicated as well. It almost worked like a human would, metal instead of bones, gears that turned instead of muscles that flexed. It was a beautiful machine. Then I noticed something else: that it didn't notice me. Or at least it was so still that I could not tell. It's eyes glowed friendly green.

The rational man inside screamed at me: _run, reach for the gun, grab the sky hook, out the window you go you blithering idiot!_ Then there was the teenager inside me, the curious,

blithering idiot it you will… It was that teenager that I decided to listen to. I took a step _forward._

Then Songbird took step back.

_Wait that's not right…_ What the hell is happening? I took another step back, an waited for it to approach me again. Maybe it was only distance sensitive? No it wasn't, I walked forwards and backwards and Songbird now was still for the exception of a tilting of its head once. The blithering idiot inside me began suggesting again, and I reached with my hand and touched it's forehead/beak. "Hello? Hello there, uh, birdy?" Okay from Songbird the flying terror from Columbia to Birdy, my seven foot tall pet songbird. "You are a peculiar thing, you." Strange how much you change when you eliminate prejudices. I began to pet its beak, "What's you _name_? Do you have one, I mean besides maybe Songbird?" The creature gave a slight nod. "Why do they call you Songbird. I mean, was it Comstock's idea?" the creature shook its head. "Why songbird?" the creature rose stood up even higher then began walking to one side of the library. Then it pointed its beak at the Whistler.

"Oh, They call you by how they… call you?" Songbird stared blankly at me, in the special way that large beaked face stared. It continued to walk around. Shuffling from one side to the other and picking up the mess of books Elizabeth supposedly left behind. "Who are you? Inside, who are you really?" Songbird gave a silent groaning, I could discern any of it, but he looked straight at me. "Well?" the figure stepped closer eying me with one big eye. "You're trying to tell me something?" but five minutes passed without anything getting through. But I was having fun. Lots of it.

"Right, they say your wing can stretch as far as thirty feet. Can you do that?" the Songbird looked inquisitively, if beaked faces could look inquisitive, at me. "Stretch your wings!" he rose to, what I supposed, was his full height, and stretched his wings. Slowly, inch by inched the wings stretched, growing wider and wider and during all that time I could hear gears turning, mechanic hisses, fluids pumping. Songbird's wings reached their full wingspan, the shadow cast over was awe-inspiring. "Oh you beauty! How would anyone be afraid of you? You're beautiful, you are! A magnificent machine. A living, breathing machine!" I patted its knee, the beak was too far at this height, and it bent back down. "Birdy, give me your hand!" the bird extended his hands and I took it, examining it. It seemed to be made of thick cloth, a sort of thick leather, with large six feet long pieces of metal for claws. They were joined together by heavy stitching and some screws, "You're a magnificent creature, Songbird. "No wonder they got you to guard Elizabeth." _Speak of the devil and…_

"WHO ARE YOU?"

I turned around.

Author's Note: This one's a tad shorter than usual. I hope you'll still enjoy it. Like I said earlier this week's post are going to be more frequent than past weeks or even the weeks to come. I hope you enjoy the story! Please leave any request, feedback, tips, comments, critics in the reviews section.

Another thing! If one of you lovely people love to draw or have a cghub page or deviantart page, and you think you might be able to help me with my story cover conundrum, feel free to contact me via reviews or PMs. Thanks and have fantastic day!

-T.S.


	5. Chapter 5

Torn Skies Chapter 5: Birdy

"WHO ARE YOU?"

I spun around. There was a figure in the door way, she had long dark hair and wore a white and blue dress. Her hair was tied by a blue ribbon, she carried with her an air of defiance, and independence as well. She carefully took a step forwards, "Who are you? What are doing here? What are you do with _him_?" the Songbird shied away at the sound of her emphasis. Like a child trying to pretend it had nothing to do with any of it. I was beginning to like the mechanical bird more and more. She stood with her hands at her hips, still waiting for an answer.

_Let's see how am I going to get out this one… _"Hey!" I took a step to her and away from the bird, "I'm Simon!" I stretched out my hand. She recoiled as soon as my hand shot out. The songbird's footsteps heavy clunking footsteps approached. He eyed my hand wearily. _Maybe it feels a bit possessive? _I turned and then began patting his beak again, then the Songbird tilted it's head in thought, before turned its head to her. Motioning her to shake my hand, which still stretched out. Reaching out slowly, she took my hand and turned it around. Handling it as if she'd never seen another person's arm before. Then again I would not be surprised if she never had. Solitude was probably all she'd ever known—that and all the books she had in this room. "Wow," she gasped.

"What?"

"You're—you're—"

"Real?" she looked up at me with dazzling eyes, they were happy and at the same time I could read the fear and uncertainty in them. And the surprise when pulled my hand back. "Of course I'm real!"

"But you're really, really here!"

I raised an eyebrow, "How long did they lock you up Elizabeth?"

"Ever since I could remember, I've been here, locked in my ivory tower." She said with a bit of sarcasm. "I might have had friends but I can't remember if they're real anymore. I mean I can't be sure if I really had met them or if I was just—"

"Making it all up?" she nodded silently. "WELL NOW!" I even managed to surprise the bird for a little, "Stuck here your whole life! Not even able to tell real people from your imagination anymore? Then man falls out of the ceiling, man talks to giant birdy here, what do you say? A little too much for a day is it?" She raised an eyebrow. "I say no. "How bout we see the world? you and me, New York, Paris, London, Cardiff?" here eyes lit up at the mention of Paris.

"Sure, but Cardiff?"

"Yeah, I know. But it's where I'm from. We can take birdy here, everywhere! Do you think we'd fit on his back?" I paused, "though I'd be more worried about the people on the ground. They might not be accustomed to a large metal bird flying around. You know the French!" I said more to myself than anyone else. The twinkle in Elizabeth's eyes, I noticed, was long gone.

"You've been to Paris? From the looks of it you've been all over the world haven't you? And why in the world are you talking like that?"

"Talking like what?"

"Like… that! The way you talk, your accent."

"And what's wrong with my accent?"

"It's weird."

"It's English… deal with it."

"You're English?" I grinned. "Anyways, what are you doing here? How did you get here?"

"I told you I came in through the hole in the ceiling. There was a conveniently large hole. Though I can't think of a reason why someone would put that large a whole in your ceiling. Why would they put they whole in your ceiling?"

"You really can't think of a reason?"

"It' really obvious isn't it? And I've missed it." She nodded to me trying to keep a tight lip over her giggle. "What?" she gestured to my left. _oh songbird, idiot me_.

"You seriously missed that? You really are silly…"

"Hey! Take it easy. I use silliness to compensate for awkward situations. Besides, I'm new around here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I've been sent from the world below to bust you out of your tower _princess_!"

"Are you my knight in shining armor?"

"Yes, though I also think that I deserved to be called prince charming just as much."

"Without a key?"

"Ehm… Right, I had forgotten about that…"

"You are an idiot!"

"I'm the first idiot you've met in nineteen years. Cut me some slack would you?"

"How did you know I was nineteen?"

"I uh… was told that. By some people…" as I expected she eyed me relentlessly. I drew in closer, "this is the part in the conversation where you send birdy away."

"What?" I shot her my best convincing look. "Ugh, you think you're so charming that I'd just take you hand as you lead me to my salvation." She put her hands on her hips, "Oh really? I've read enough books to tell fairy tales from real life!"

"Charm is all I have. And at most times it might be all I need. But at other times I need your as well. Like for example: sending the bird away so that you can escape this place where you've been locked up your whole life."

She went off to whisper in the Bird's ears. The bird nodded before launching up into the air. "He's going to be gone a while, the bookstore is about ten minutes from here by flight so I hope that's enough time."

"I'm pretty sure that's enough time." I scratched my head, "So um yeah, My name's Simon Blackwell. Not sure what I'm doing here but I did get here so here I am."

"You say more than there has to be said, you know that?"

"I like to hear myself talk. I'm known for it."

"Okay, sure. Now I want to know how you came to know my age?"

"First, it was a guess, or more of an estimate. Second, there are a lot of people who actually care much about you than you could ever know."

"Of course people know about me!"

"Not in the sense that you think Elizabeth."

"People know me as the Lamb."

"Yeah I know."

"But ever since you got here, You've been calling me Elizabeth."

_What in the bloody world ever made me plunge down here. Now im faced with her, more problems, and a giant metal bird that goes around getting books and smashing building apart._ "I've got information, from reliable sources, but for now you're going to have to trust me Elizabeth. I'm serious because someone coming. And yes, he's real… He's coming to take you out of this tower. You're going to be free you understand?"

I was silent for a beat, so I took that as the time she needed to come to terms with the facts. But then she started laughing. "You're not serious are you? Get out of this tower?" she scoffed, "You don't even have a key with you to open that dang door. Don't you get it there's no getting out of here once you come in."

"But what if _he_ had the keys?"

"Then you have to go up against Songbird, that a feat that's going to take a lot of work Simon." She went to one end of the library and collapsed unto one of the couches. She looked almost as if she were really devastated. It must have hurt to have your hopes lifted up then dashed against the rocks of reality. I sat down at the ottoman in front of her.

"Look I know that you've probably never been anywhere, and you live in solitary confinement all your life with nothing but a giant bird to accompany you. But you have to believe me, you'll soon be free, then you'll fight it."

"Still how are we going to get out of here?"

"A… man will come. He'll get us out of here. Trust me, I know…"

"You seem to know a lot of things. But how can I trust you? How do know if you're not lying. How do I know if you're just tricking me? How do I know if your even real?" she seemed almost hurt, though there was still seemed humor in her voice. Skeptic as if she didn't expect this to be real.

"Because I am real," I took her hand and placed it on my chest, "Look, feel, I don't believe you've had an imaginary friend quite like me, have you?" I could nearly see it in her eyes, the longing to believe. "You can trust me." She opened her mouth to rebut, I continued, "You can trust me because I know. I know things nobody else knows. I know you've been in this place for eighteen years, I know that you long to go to Paris more than anything else, I know that you love that bird and that at the same time you hate it and fear it because it would not let you out. I know… that you have means to escape… but you don't really use them because you're afraid of what it does. All those tears?" She was stilled. "But I also know beyond a doubt that that man is coming, and he's going to get us out of here."

"How did you—"

"I just know…" we lingered in silence for some time before an idea crossed my mind. "Now, how bout you show me Paris?" she flashed a reluctant smile then took my hand.

"Here," she showed me the room, the wall was filled with drawings of Songbird and a painting of Paris. And dresses off in one corner. I also saw the large, one way mirror on one side of the wall and decided to step out of its field of vision. If I was right, this was where it would happen. "I never really understood how it worked, I used always assume that… there was someone like me out there. Oh well never mind." she concentrated on the painting, before it blew up into a perfectly flat 2D circle in the wall. And there it was, Paris just on the other side of the tear. And so was a truck. "Oh no, Oh no Oh no." She closed the just as the truck was about to come through it. I could feel the a slight chill in the air. Seems that ripping the fabric of reality a universe apart suck the warmth of the air—a cheap price for tearing a whole in reality. Distracted by the thought, I realized Elizabeth's darkened face just as she left the room. I quickly followed.

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth! Hey, wait up. Aw damn it!" I took off after her and caught her arm just as she was about to enter the library again. "Hey, let's talk for a second."

"About what? What you saw is what I've got. A blessing in disguise—a looming curse… I can't decide which it is. And that scares me even more Simon." Her face looked sullen. "I don't know what it is, and that just makes it all the more dangerous."

"Surely we could find information about it—" she was turning away to leave. It didn't seem like she would listen to me. "Elizabeth, why are you so scared, what you've got here is a gift. It's beautiful, you're beautiful. The worst thing you could do now is to be afraid of the unknown." She looked me in the eye. "Why be scared? Unsurety is dealt with caution not total abstinence."

"But I could hurt someone, I could do some many things that it scares me what else is waiting—"

"Don't be afraid, not now. You don't even fully know what you could do and you're going to back off without treading further, before knowing fully what lies in you?" She straightened and a hint of a smile crossed her lips. She seemed hesitant, but she nodded softly.

"How bout if we go to the library, I have something I want to show you." She let go my hand and started for the library. But I waited behind, I turned and went to the room again. I looked at the place where the painting once stood. The painting had disappeared, scorch marks scarred the ground, so did traces of frost. It seemed even the laws of physics didn't know what to do when it came to Elizabeth. If what the game says is true then the answer lies in her finger. Half of her pinky that was trapped in the other world. Still though, how did it effect the world _we_ were in, why did the air suddenly feel so cold, why caused her to—" then there was rumbling like an enormous safe just unlocked. Then the whistler Rang.

Author's Note: not much to say here, except that I hope you enjoy another chapter. The Game depicts the Songbird a very cold and evil character. And ever since I saw that Songbird plushie toy, I've wished we could see his kinder side. I'm pretty sure that he has a kinder side, if he is to guard Elizabeth through her childhood—he's got to have a friendly side. That is, if he doesn't get angry. He's a link to one of the images that inspired me to write about a kinder song bird: wiki/File:Tumblr_mkzto9H9Un1s11vqao4_

Please leave any comments, constructive criticism, tips, or any thoughts in the Reviews Section.

-T.S.


	6. Chapter 6

Torn Skies Chapter 6: Asunder

I ran as fast as I could to the library by she—they were gone. The Whistler whistled again, and the entirety of the building shook as the Songbird landed in the room. It turned to me, eyes glowing red. "Not me! they—" was I really going to betray them? "Elizabeth! She's in there." I pointed to one of the room. "Sorry Birdy…" I took off while I could and shut the vault like door behind me and pocketed the key. I couldn't have it opening the door into the building, even its hand were only huge claws. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth." The building shook with might rumbling and crashing. _He's unto me—he's unto us_. Elizabeth. As the catwalk beneath my feet began to fall apart, I caught the screaming and swearing of Elizabeth and Booker, respectively. I ran faster. There they were! Making their way out side of the structure. "Elizabeth!" they both turned around to face me, and so did booker's machine gun. "Wait!" He loosed a volley of bullets as Elizabeth screamed at him to stop.

Booker was the least of my worries. The ceiling above me collapsed, missing me by centimeters as I dodged to the side. The whole floor rumbled and shuddered as they collapsed. "Run Simon Run." I broke into a sprint at Elizabeth's call, and then exited through the side of the tower. What terror and thrill I had experienced while climbing the side of this earlier was exponentially amplified now that Songbird was tearing the building asunder. _Focus Simon, run for your life!_ I made it to the top where booker and Elizabeth stood catching their breath.

Booker, typically of him, grabbed me by the collar and shoved me against the wall, "Who the hell are you, kid?"

"I'm here for her!" I twisted out of his grip. "Now quickly, Songbird is tearing this place apart. And unless you fancy falling twenty thousand feet down I suggest we get the hell of this thing."

"Hey!" Elizabeth grabbed his arm and pulled DeWitt away from me. "Let my friend go!" _I'm her friend now? _"He also said your were coming, he told me about the key."

"What key?"

"This one," I lifted the key into view, the one I took from the door, showing it to booker before pocketing it again. "Now I suggest we—" the felt the building lurch to the left. I felt my feet slide against my will. _Aw, bloody 'ell! _ "The Skyrails there! Go go go." Booker leapt into the air pushing away from the structure before it would bring him down. Then Elizabeth did, before finally, I went off structure as well. I pushed myself off of the roof, getting as much of momentum as I could to float to Elizabeth. I reached out my hand and yelled after her. Useless, though, falling at this speed the air was enough to make anyone deaf. She turned my way as I floated towards her and caught her arm. I drew her ear near my mouth, "Hold on!" I wrapped my arm around her waist and drew out my Skyhook with the other. We turned and twisted to the direction of the nearest Skyline. I turned and lifted my skyhook that direction, then magantized. "Gotcha!" I slowly made flight the direction of the Skyline. We hit caught unto the rail like a pair of bullets, I felt something in my arm pop and crack as pain coursed through it. I yelled out in pain as we accelerated. Some distance behind me, Booker caught unto the rail. However the fall wasn't the end to our problems, for in front of us over two hundred feet of statue has crashing down unto the bridge in front of us. With whatever control I had left in my numbing fingers I gunned that Skyhook for as much as it was worth.

We shot past the falling statue as it ripped the bridge apart and pulled it down to the sea, thousands of feet below. Booker wasn't so lucky, but he made for the small artificial sea that Columbia had. And to add to his misfortune the Songbird dove into the water after him.

"Mr. DeWitt! Simon we have to go help him." I watched and through to myself, _he'll survive anyway. "_we have to go back and get him, we can't just leave him, Songbird will—"

"He won't, it's deep water. He's designed for high altitudes and low pressures he won't last long." And I was right Songbird went out of the water almost as soon as he went in. "See?" My left arm was numb but I managed to guide us to battleship bay.

I detached and hit the sand rolling with Elizabeth clinging unto me. The feeling in my arm returned with a vengeance that threatened to split my skull apart. "Simon!" Elizabeth exclaimed, as I yelled in pain. I managed to get up and limped to the shade of an umbrella. I leaned on it as my arm dangled askew at my side. "Your arm, it's dislocated. You have to move as little as possible, you might do it more damage." Slowly sat underneath the shade. The sound of the lapping waves calmed my soul. The sun shone with warm light. The sand didn't feel coarse, the little grains were smooth and warm. "Alright, hold on. This is going to hurt. Ready?"

I nodded grimly as she gripped my arm and forced it back into place, "Oh, bullocks." The same sharp pain returned, amplified a thousand times as my arm popped back into it's socket. "Wait here!" Elizabeth ran off. I began to flex my muscled, but it still hurt like hell. I felt a familiar chill as Elizabeth returned. "Hold still." She said with a motherly tone, that half said I was going to be fine if it didn't move and half said that she would kick my sorry backside if I did move. She removed a frighteningly large syringe from behind her. She smiled reluctantly and stuck it into my arm before I could say anything about it.

The pain vanished and my arm felt more responsive, some sort of healing liquid I suppose. Like health in the first Bioshock—_wait! _"Elizabeth where did you get that?"

"Someone gave it to me." I lifted an eyebrow. "I uh found it…" I lifted my eyebrow yet again. "Alright I stole it. But don't deny that you did find it useful. You really looked like you could have used the help. Don't judge me!"

I lifted my eyebrows for the final time, "In this world or the next." She gasped and sort of fell unto her backside but disguised it as if she actually intended to sit down.

She spoke in a low voice, "How did you know?"

"I told you, 'Liz. I know things. I can be a fool sometimes, but sometimes I can just know things. Like the fact that this world hasn't got technology like that yet. Even it did, you would find it sitting on an ordinary beach." I looked around, _we're on a floating beach in the sky…_ "Okay, not so ordinary, a beach in the sky is quite a spectacle… sorry, rabbit trail." She seemed to be hiding her face by looking at the sea. "Look, Ellie, I'm not angry but I could do with a little less people lying to me right now. This city has enough scoundrels, and wolves in sheep's clothing. But—" she was grinning and holding back a giggle which burst into laughter when I stopped. I couldn't help but smile, "What?"

"You called me 'Ellie',"

I nodded , "Uh, yeah. Sorry."

"No don't apologize. Nobody has ever given me a nickname before, I love it." she smiled widely again.

"Elizabeth, the bird who was caged."

She took off her ascot and tired to wipe some blood of my face but I refused it and just used my own. "Sorry you just looked like you were bleeding a lot, especially that nose bleed of yours."

"NOSE BLEED?" _OH SHITE!_ The blood had tried so it must have been a while. "When did I start bleeding?"

"I don't know, I thought you knew, but it's okay you're not bleeding anymore. It must have been a while ago by the looks of it."

"The mind seeks to create memories where none exists."

"You read Lutece."

"No, just know things." She looked at me confused and I just smiled.

"Oh no! Mr. DeWitt!"

"Elizabeth, there's no need to worry! He's going to be fine." I yelled after her remembering the plot. I sighed to myself and slowly began to walk when a familiar voice stopped me.

"You see a fish swimming hopelessly up stream—leave it swimming or ruin its life." the voice stopped and another continued, "So every decision is not what it may seem—this Simon Blackwell is your strife." The voice ended with slight air of satisfaction and an ever-present condescension.

"I see before me two annoying twins—each with straight looks and condescending grins." I smiled to myself, "You're not the only ones who can be witty you know."

"This is your choice Simon." Rosalind said, "You can remain here and watch the story unfold, bleak as it seems. Or you can intervene, while risk sending this universe on a different path."

"Stop being so bloody vague. Tell me what you really mean."

"It's Mr. DeWitt, Mr. Blackwell, remember him. You think have this all figured out—but his fate hangs in the balance this very moment." Robert replied.

"Constants and Variables: Which is constant? Which will vary?"

"Constants and Variables?" I said rather thoughtfully, "Wait, you mean, can he actually die in this universe?"

Rosalind took a step forward, this time the condescension was gone from her face—a stern look took its place. "That Mr. Blackwell, is your choice." Robert took his place at her side with a red syringe. Filled with the same ruby red liquid that Elizabeth injected into me.

"Oh bloody hell, you could have told me sooner." I grabbed the Syringe and broke into a sprint. "Wait, my nosebleed—" I spun, and they were gone. "Bloody twins." I ran for Elizabeth who was trying to resuscitate DeWitt, but to little avail. "Here use this." She gratefully took the syringe and plunged straight it into DeWitt's chest. His body shook and his eyes shot wide open. He spent the next few moment's retching and coughing out water from his lungs. "Where did you find him?"

"Edge of the water," Elizabeth replied. "Wait a minute, The syringe how did you—"

"I received it," I replied vaguely.

"From who?"

"You'll see soon enough," I shot her an amused look while she frowned.

"What the hell?" Booker was back up.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Elizabeth and I both said. "You alright DeWitt?" I attended to a rather large wound on the man's arm.

"I don't know I can't say that I've done something like that before. But I guess—How do you know my name?"

"I'm really good with people," I replied continuing to bandage his arm while trying to work my way out of this one. _I've really got shut my gob._ "Or call it intuition if you will, I do _that_ with people. Or take the easy way out—and just trust me—'cause I know a lot of things."

"Some intuition kid," DeWitt still didn't trust me, but at least he didn't shoot me on sight. _Though he did try to._

"And you can thank that intuition for getting your live saved. Though if you really got to thank someone I suggest you thank her," I pointed my thumb at Elizabeth who blushed. "Though I've saved your life, more than once. Maybe thrice?" I said thoughtfully.

"Look, I know it's not in your nature to trust anyone very easily. But if your give me a chance, I'll make it worth your while, Mr. DeWitt." In fact he wasn't, he might be a good fighter but I wouldn't really trust him either. Not a very good friend, or a very good father for that matter. "My trust, however, lies in Elizabeth, and something tells me that you trust her yourself." Elizabeth though was already walking into the distance, listening to the distant echoes of music. "Mr. DeWitt, we both know that you're here for her, and if she trusts you then I trust you as well."

"Look Kid, I appreciate the concern, but I work best alone. And if you still insist on teaming up I can tell you right now, it ain't going to work. I'm sorry I'm just—"

"A complete arse? Someone reckless and dangerous and violent. That you're a gambler, on and off the table. That you sometimes even gamble with things you shouldn't."

"Hey, Kid! Don't judge me! I've a hard life and I haven't been very lucky. I learned things the hard way, and I'm still here because I remember those lessons."

"Look, you don't trust me? Fine if you don't want to team up with me that's fine too. But if you expect me leave her, now, with you after all the work I've done trying to get here…"

He laughed humorlessly, "What's deal with you and her?"

"She matters to me. I stay at her side, because she matters to me." I stood up and straightened my bow tie before walking off. "And she should matter to you too, Booker."


	7. Chapter 7

Torn Skies Chapter 7: The Music

Elizabeth was spinning. She was dancing to the music, slowly then quickly. Dancing one dance then switching to the other suddenly and not caring. The people around her clapped their hands to the beat and danced circles around her—their faces shining with joy and laughing in delight of the girl they danced around. And the joy… the joy that she showed form dancing. I couldn't imagine being trapped in that place for years, your only friend was your warden. Not _the_ warden, _your _warden; one created just for your little prison. She was the lamb, the girl trapped in a tower like in some fairy tale. To be chosen by a self-righteous megalomaniac to continue his reign of terror.

"Oh, the music!" Her voice woke me from my trance, "Have you ever heard anything more beautiful than that music?"

I smiled, "You like it?"

"What are you talking about? I love it!"

"You don't get outside much do you?" Briefly, she shot me an ice cold stare—before the music carried her away again. She was too happy to let anyone ruin it. I raised my hand, "Sorry bad joke."

"Join me."

"Pardon?"

"JOIN ME!" she laughed as she grabbed both my arms and pulled me into the crowd of dancers.

"OH no, you dance much too fine for me young lady!"

"This is the first time I ever danced for real, and I don't think you're old enough to call me young lady." I still shook my head, I could dance just fine by myself, but with her I didn't know if I could carry myself properly. And, actually I was might just be younger than she was—so that 'young lady' statement might have been slightly out of place after all. "C'mon, Smarmy!" She pulled me by the arm and I joined the crowd. "See, you're doing fine!"

"You're amazing for someone who's been locked in a tower her whole life."

"Are you kidding me? I've had tons of time, all I have to do is look it up on a book and practice with music. There are a lot of books that have illustrations, they help a lot. I can always find music."

"IN this world or the next?"

Her wandering eyes shot back to mine, "Yeah. But sometimes I find these… strange music. I've never heard of them before, they are so different from the music I've heard." I was tempted to pull out my phone and show her some music.

"Elizabeth, can you remember the first time you ever opened tear?" I can feel her almost lose a step; her dancing for sure seemed to dip in its vigor.

"No, I have always felt that those tears were a part of my life. I can't really pinpoint the first time I ever opened a tear. I could have opened tears up as a baby, by accident and without realizing it. I'm surprised you didn't know more about it, Smarmy."

I laughed, "Why do you call me that?"

"I guess I just like the sound of Smarmy better then _Mr. Blackwell_." She mockingly said it in a really low and gruff voice. "I mean we're about the same age right?" I shrugged. Wow, it did feel a tad off putting. _Oh great I'm dancing with an older woman._ I wished to forget it but at the same time, it kept nagging me._Why did it?_

"What's wrong with 'Simon'?"

"Still a bit too formal, why did you call me 'Ellie'?"

I gave it some thought for a moment before I answered, "I guess shorter, and just sounds better?"

"You see my point?"

I managed to slow my dancing a little. And flash a big grin. "I don't think I'll ever find some like you. You light up at a simple nickname. If only everyone in the world thought like you—the world would be a different place."

"Smarmy." I simply smiled back at her and decided to shut up lest I prove her point more. I wasn't a very good dancer, and this was her first time dancing—neither of us could complain since we seemed equally handicapped. Instead, I just decided to enjoy the pink clouds that encompassed Battleship Bay, the warmth of Elizabeth's hand as we swayed to the music. Of course like all good things, all it soon… It was then ruined.

"Elizabeth!" we both spun in DeWitt's direction. She muttered "pardon me" as she left me then greeted her… other rescuer. I had to restrain myself, knowing that he was her father. The two spoke in tones to low for me to hear while standing in the midst of music and people. "PARIS!?" as soon as I heard those words I knew what was to come. I decided I was going to let him off though I should confront him at one point or another. I didn't want to rock the boat so early into events, however I still had to ask, "Mr. DeWitt might I ask how are we going to get to Paris?"

"How 'bout that?" His hands motioned to the First Lady Aerodrome. "All we have to do is get out hands on that airship then we'll be headed to Paris in no time. Sound good?" She nodded excitedly. Too excitedly to realize there was something off about DeWitt's tone. I had a choice, to intervene or stay passive. And as the Luteces had been so kind to ambiguously inform me; either path had trouble waiting at its end. Maybe it's a question of how far I choose to veer off the plot. I decided not to make such a drastic change so early in the game. "Right," was all I said and urged him to move one from the pier. We managed to make quite some progresses before it happened. We saw the rooms and how the 'sea' was created before making our way out to a sunnier scene. It was then we encountered the twins. _Again_.

"Hello, again Mr. DeWitt." Rosalind ventured only to get an exasperated sigh in return. "I assume your journey has been interesting?"

Robert stepped up and looked at me, "And you Mr. Blackwell, I Assume that your journey has been an intriguing change for you too?"

"An interesting one, Robert. But I'm yet to form a solid opinion. I hope you don't mind—being all so ambiguous all the bloody time."

"You know these people?" Booker asked me.

"Yeah, vaguely. Then again they're always vague…" I turned more directly to the two, "Vague is probably as close as I'll ever be to knowing these two."

"Indeed Mr. Blackwell." Rosalind smiled.

"Let's just cut to the chase!" DeWitt seemed to be losing his patience. Nothing wrong with that though. It took a man of great patience to talk with the Luteces, something that I had yet to find out whether I had it in me.

"Alright," Rosalind seemed slightly bothered by DeWitt's un willingness to wait. Then again, they probably never have to wait for anything ever again. Merits of existing throughout space and time I suppose. "All pleasantries aside, I have an important matter that needs resolving. Which one will you pick?"

"The Bird…" Robert lifted a box.

"Or the cage? Rosalind lifted her box as well. Both we beautifully crafted pendants. They were black-onyx stones with a silver Bird or Cage at the center, with a silver rim.

"Oh! They're both so beautiful! I can't pick," She turned, upsettingly, to DeWitt, " tell me which one should I chose?"

DeWitt gave it some thought, though he seemed a bit clueless about picking out jewelry. But hey, so was I. "The Cage," he finally said, I raised an eyebrow at him, "Well the bird is beautiful, but doesn't it remind you a bit too much of that monster back there. At least in a Cage you're safe." _Hmm, not a bad argument_ I thought to myself before I found the Luteces behind me.

"She has the cage…" Rosalind began

"… And you, have the key." Robert finished. I realized all of a sudden that I did happen to keep the key. On a whim, I grabbed it form the door back at the tower then just pocketed it. So if she in the cage and I had the key what could it possible mean. I was about to ask the Luteces but they had already vanished, perks of not being a fixed point in space and time. "Smarmy, what do you think?"

My hand made for my pocket without me realizing it. "It's gorgeous, wonderful."

"You really think so?"

I nodded, with my hand still fingering the key in my pocket, "Positive."

"OH MY GOD!" all three of us looked and saw the man running. His eyes were large while circles and his mouth hung low. Then we saw it-Everyone saw it. Monument island was shambles, torn asunder. "We shouldn't be here too long, let's go." Booker motioned at us join him, while we obeyed and began walking his way..

"Ellie. Are you alright?"

"I don't know. That place, my home, my palace, my prison…" she drifted away in thought, "It's all I've ever known and now that it's gone—I don't know, it's a strange feeling. I gave her a side hug as we followed DeWitt into the arcade. I didn't feel like saying anything, perhaps I was better that way.

We made our way through the back of the arcade, trying to find a way out of the place. It stank and was stained everywhere. The atmosphere generated was dark and gloomy and depressing. Earlier we had tried to get into the arcade knowing that it would lead us out of Battleship Bay. Then we could hop a ride on the first lady. When the police set a check point, Ellie showed her amazing lock-picking skills and got us into the building. Now we were here, "Smarmy! What are you doing?"

"You pick locks I'll be in charge of finding some revenue for a our little journey." I pulled out another purse, filled with coins from rummaging the desks and cabinets lying around. Even found some bullets, but I simply pocketed those. "You'll be surprised at what you can find here, Ellie! Aww! look at this," I pulled out another purse, "people here are just too care free. Or too rich…"

"Hey you two, we need to get going." I nodded and followed him into the next room. There was a dark-skinned man scrubbing the floors and complaining and mumbling under his breath. But when he looked at us, the fear of god came into him. "OH don't you pay mind me no nevermind sir, just crazy talking. Ain't nothing… just monkeyshines." I looked scared to death of us. But I smiled and approached him.

"You don't like the way us whites treat you?" I tried to sound humorous and kind. But I wasn't getting across. so I tried serious, "So, they treat you badly don't they. Tell me now?"

"Yeah sir—"

"Good," His face turned blank, "I reached into under my waist coat, careful not to reveal my revolver and pistol. "Here!" I threw him a purse full coins. "I'm not like the others. I hope you use it wisely."

"God bless you sir!"

"God bless you too." I smiled at him satisfyingly. Watching his face change from terror to joy affected me more than I thought it would.

"Why did you do that?" Elizabeth asked me later on.

"Because I'm sick of all of this. The pseudo-Christian nonsense—" I hesitated. "I'm a Christian and I can swear to you right now, God created all men equal, when we turned from him that's when we took things into our own hands. And we became our own gods, but we couldn't. We were selfish, impatient, and arrogant."

"You seem adamant about your faith."

"It's my faith, or course I'm adamant about it."

"You sound like the people who built this place, you know."

"I may not like some things in the world, but I'm not going to thump people on the head with a Bible till they believe in what I say. And I'm definitely not going to burn the world below me just because it doesn't believe in what I say. "'Revenge is mine' says the lord." Make no mistake though, if anyone tries to hurt me or anyone I hold dear I will fight back. But we're supposed to convince them, not give up and burn the ground below us." She nodded thoughtfully.

We continued to walk down the hall way until we came across the couple they had put up to be raffled and practically be stoned to death with baseballs. I was unlucky enough to see an actual one happening. They were still in the same set of shabby clothes and their faces were glum until they saw us.

"Sir? Is it you? Yes it is isn't it!"

"Well, yeah," Booker replied, doubtlessly fumbling for the right words.

Columbia's victims took a step forward, "Thank you for your mercy sir. We didn't have a chance. Till you came along and changed all of that. We don't have much, but I hope you'll take this." The man took out his bag of coins, I could hear the silver eagles chinking inside. "We can't thank you enough. I never thought I'd find someone up here who wasn't so stupid they couldn't see past color. Please sir take it."

"I uh you're welcome but… I can't take this. This is your money. Keep it and live good lives with it and…"

"Use it well," _Ah… DeWitt you were never a man of much words_ "Get off of this place and find a that isn't filled with stone-headed idiots. You two deserve better than any of this."

"Lord bless you, but here take these." The woman went behind to fetch a old broken crate. Inside were some boxed with articles of clothing inside. Or as the game calls them: GEAR. "We can't ever use these anyways." I let DeWitt have first pick while I went for the other one. A pair boots titled _TUNNEL VISION_. I could almost hear the description in my head; _Shooting while aiming down the sights increase damage. Shooting from the hips decrease damage_. The description on the box said different things: _Allows you moments of concentration, while using miniscule amounts of salt to adjust muscle reaction and augment weapon_.

"Thank you," DeWitt said and began to walk away with Elizabeth—growing ever closer to the ringing of the arcades bells and whistles. Then I looked the pair straight in the eye, and motioned so that I also capture the attention of the African-American sweeping the floor next to me. "And warn any friends and family you have: Tell them to leave. This city is going to burn." They stood in solemn silence as I dipped my head in acknowledgement and joined the two walking away. I caught up with Elizabeth soon enough.

"Breath it in, Ellie," I waved to everything around us as me spun, "Look at the propaganda, the brainwashing, hear the fallacies grate on your ear. Hear their false arguments. Slippery slopes, Ad hominem, Ad Bacculum."

"So, not only are you Smarmy, you're also a philosopher-slash-show-off."

"Philosopher? Not so much, I just listen at school. But Show-off? Definitely!"

"SO you're just a man. A living creature, nothing without his desire to discharge it's own power."

"Yup, Will to Power. You read Nietzsche?" It was more of a statement than a question but she nodded as if it were, "They let you read that? Up here?" she nodded again, biting her bottom lip rather mischievously, "You opened up a tear didn't you? _Oh ho ho, _you're brilliant."

"And you're Smarmy," she playfully hit my arm. "You think you can disprove every argument one all those posters."

"Maybe not all of them—"

"Hey let's head out of here I don't like this place," DeWitt interrupted, I found out what he was so upset about. He was looking at the mechanized George Washingtons as they blasted bullocks from their speakers.

"Okay," Elizabeth sang in reply, and grabbed my arm. "Let's start with that one, _Children of Columbia..._

We argued quietly as we went through the turnstiles, then she wrapped her arms around one of mine again. "Okay, next one."

"_Her eyes so Blue her skin so White Or Are They…_"

"You can see there, that the entire posters are lined with red white and blue, makes people feel patriotic. And the arguments, most definitely Ad Hominem, argument against the _man_ instead of the man's _argument_. Although, you can probably say all the propaganda here has an Ad Hominem fallacy in it."

"Then there is Ad Bacculum," She chimed in using one of the fallacies I had explained to her earlier, "because the end of the argument could feel a bit threatening. They're appealing to the people's fear of the other races and foreigners actually being among them."

"Which would not make much sense to a race tolerant society, but here it's about as subtle as a church bell."

"And you learn this all at your school?"

"And some books I picked up. And it's a _classical_ school, they insist you learn college level stuff at our age."

"A Classical School."

"I'm sure you have your fair share of Classical schools by this age."

"What do you mean, 'by this age'?" _Oh no._

Booker went ahead of us, "I'd like three tickets for the First Lady..."

"So, see any other posters that catch your eye?"

"You're changing the topic, Smarmy."

"Hey Buddy I just want some tickets, can you at least…" That exact second everybody moved. The man at the booth grabbed DeWitt's hand and brandished a wicked knife from under his coat. The man to my left dropped his suitcase and revealed the shotgun he had hidden within. _Oh God, how could I have forgotten about this._ The man next to Elizabeth grabbed her arm, and began to pull her from me.

Then I grabbed Elizabeth's by her arm.

Author's Note: Been a while… But I'm publishing again! Special thanks to Tonic9901 and VODKA18 for their reviews and feedbacks. Keep em' coming people! And as always enjoy the story!

-T.S.


	8. Chapter 8

Torn Skies Chapter 8: Who I Am.

I held Elizabeth tightly in my grip, then threw her out of the line of fire. As far away from these wretches as I could. They were sent to retrieve the Lamb. _It's me they want._ My left hand shot out and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and pushed it upwards and away from my face. Just as the weapon discharged. A scalding heat travelled throughout my left hand as the group of pellets flew into the air. The scalding heat soon vanished as my began to burn with an entirely different kind of heat. I extended my arm—needlessly might I add, having found out all I needed was to visualize it in my head—and set the other man ablaze. I turned to the man with the shotgun, then pulled on the weapon to get him closer, then I sent my right hand flying into his neck with a chop. He emitted a croaking sound before his grip on the shotgun loosed and I yanked it away from him, and threw it to the ground. I grabbed the back of his head with both my arms and brought it down upon my knee. Twice. By the time he was down on the ground and knocked out cold, I was going for his shotgun.

Two men were converging on Booker. I swept the shotgun off the surface of the floor, brought it up to my shoulder, and worked the lever—all in one stride. One man flew backwards under the hail of pellets. While the other fell from the pistol round DeWitt put in his head. I turned around with the shotgun—or as I had known it in-game the China Broom. Elizabeth had two people converging on her with some type of handcuffs. That was before I brought the shotgun up and pulled the trigger, worked the lever, then pulled the trigger again. Soon, both men lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath them. I worked the lever on the shotgun, ejecting the spent casing. I was feeling unusually alive. The adrenaline flowing through my veins gave me more than just speed or an edge. I was enjoying this. I was staring blankly at the corpse, now a smile was creeping across my lips. But it _barely_ made it.

"Simon," I felt my blood curdle as she said it. Not only did she use an extremely cold, intense tone, but she also used _Simon_ instead of _Smarmy_. "How could you—" she stifled a sob, then made a run for it. She had believed and trusted the words I had said, laughed at every joke, smiled when I smiled, and pursed her lips at my mockery. That was gone now, the trust I have gained had been tainted.

I watched that trust slip away as she vanished around the corner. I turned to look at Booker as he pulled the knife out of his hand and tossed it aside. Two men were behind him, and they were getting closer—too close. In a stride that didn't break, I pulled the trigger and blasted the two men away. Then released a pack of crows on another two men, who rounded the corner only to meet the cloud of angry crows. Pecking away at their skin as I fired the shotgun twice again. The crows dissipated soon after, and I threw the shotgun away. As much damage it dealt, I wasn't willing to put up with the enormous recoil it had. The advantage of damage just wasn't enough over the inaccuracy.

One of the men that I had shot earlier rose to his feet, one hand leaning against the wall and the other clutching his wounded side. His groaning alerted me. It wasn't too bad by the looks of it. He inched closer to a dropped pistol. "Don't! Don't do it!"

He froze and our eyes locked. They were filled with pain, perhaps regret, burning hatred; though not as powerful as the shame they contained. He wasn't afraid, he wasn't _that_ angry, but he was indeed ashamed.

_Oh, so this is it._ This was Comstock's power, he had such power and influence that he can rewrite your self-image. That was how we ruled over the city. Each person in Columbia was so surrounded by his image and his ideals—and so isolated from the rest of the world below—that was the power he had over everyone's psychology. His norms became everyone's norms, his morals theirs, his rules theirs. Comstock had effectively warped, destroyed, then rebuilt the self-image of just about everyone in this city. That way he didn't have to spend much time trying to convince everyone or constantly giving orders, all of that had been imbedded in the people's mind.

I approached the hurt man carefully. Still keeping hand on my holstered pistol. "What's the matter with you?"

"False Shepard," was all he said and then kept repeating it. Hatred glowering in his eyes, now.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that. What I don't get is how could you be so dedicated to someone so twisted?"

"Blasphemy!"

"Oh really? If he really cared, he would not he send you, blind and wailing like the fanatic you've become, to your death."

"The prophet knows the price of victory. And he aims for the higher goal. He aims for the goal God has set for him. He cannot waste the time he has been given, that is why we must do the work."

"He talks of God-given goals and send you to your deaths… no wonder people are losing faith in us these days. That. Is. Not. God. If he truly believes and mirrors God, then he'll value human life as much as his goals. And find new ways if need be, to accomplish his plans. Any sort of effort would be better than sending you lot blindly into battle. Like animals to the slaughter house." I stopped for a beat, thinking that the man might refute my words. But the silence indicated that he was beginning to accept what I said, "He's a liar. And while I'm not going to claim that my faith is greater than that belonging any other man… I will tell you: _that_ man has more faith in himself and what he can do than God. Go home. Go to your family or friends they need you more than Comstock ever will." I handed him a medical kit, "Keep the wound under pressure and keep it clean."

"Why are you doing this?" the man asked, "Why not save the medkit and kill me with your bare hands?"

"Because… I can choose not to." He straightened in stunned silence. He didn't do anything besides dip his head in thanks and he walked away.

"Just that?" I spun to meet Booker's stare, "Just because you have a choice not to? I wished I was more like you as a young man."

"I'm sure you do." I shot him a glance that hinted I knew more about him than he initially thought. "We all have our own problems to deal with. You go on, Elizabeth will respond to you better that she will to me."

"Why?"

"Because she had more trust in me when I betrayed her." He nodded and walked away as I began to rummage through the pockets of the dead in search of bullets, silver eagles, and anything that might possible help me in my journey. After what was nearly a hundred eagles and a dozen pistol rounds, I went into the ticket booth. I rummaged through the coat owned by the booth keeper, and found what I had hoped for. A small box of Hand Cannon rounds. Then my eyes found the knife on the floor; bloodied and still stained with bits of skin and wooded splinters. I examined the six inch long drop-point blade. The skyhook hanging from my side could turn out to be a handy melee weapon, but I didn't know since I hadn't tried it yet. And in tight places drawing the saw-like weapons could prove quite as task, meanwhile the smaller sleeker one I had in my hand would be handy in a tight spot. When I was still contemplating it, something made my decision. The groaning behind me.

The man I had knocked out was back. Armed with a shotgun. As he leveled his weapon I gripped my knife, backhand, then crouched. Keeping low, I made myself a smaller and harder target to hit, then I launched forward. The shotgun boomed in the smaller room and I felt my left shoulder sting. I continued running, however, until I was within reach of him. I smacked the long barrel to the side and slammed unto him. Without hesitation I attempted what was a poor attempt at a _Dishonored_ kill, I jammed the knife into the side of his neck. Grabbing his collar pushed his entire body downwards and past my left foot before savaging his neck. I dropped him to the ground and blood pooled. A quickly growing puddle of dark red.

Wiping the knife on the other man's coat, I took the knife's sheath and wore it under the coat. The sight of the savaged man was getting to me, despite me doing it and actually visualizing it in my head before even doing it. The run through the station didn't take too long, I was just in time to get on the railcar before it took off. Elizabeth started to take her ascot off and tied it around Booker's wounded hand, so I gave them space. Despite the car having two compartments, I only took the medkit there, before left the second compartment. The sunset was much prettier outside the car, the air was much cooler when on the floor, leaning against the railing. Besides I would rather respect the privacy of the two.

The shirt around the wound had begun to dry with the black fluid. The iodine on the bandage looked frightening. Despite the clearness of the liquid, it seemed so threatening. The pain didn't fail to meet my expectation. Wincing in pain I began to pull the pellets out with a pair tweezers. "Careful with that, Simon."

The fact that she had dropped the name-calling hurt more than the iodine. "Let me help you with that." She got down and sat with me on the wooden floor and tended to my shoulder. For the first time ever since the beach, I actually sat back, closed my eyes, and washed away any worry I had in my mind. "I'm sorry for running. I shouldn't have. You were protecting me from those rouges were determined to get their hands on me and kill you. And I overreacted."

"I guess I should have told you earlier."

"Wait? You knew?"

My eyes snapped open and stared her in the eye. "Sort of like I told you I know things." But she was no longer satisfied with that answer. "Well I should have told you that coming to get you was dangerous." She nodded reluctantly and pulled out the last of the pellets and laid a bandage over the it.

"There," She stared me in the eye again, "I have to say that… I did something I can't help but regret. I called Booker a monster. And I know I've apologized, but in my mind I can't get rid of the idea. It's stuck in there but I don't want you to be monsters. You saved me from that tower. And I'm sorry… I just never met anyone like you before. I don't think I've _really_ met anyone before. I'm too naïve! And I get myself in trouble and I blame it on you! I'm just too… too—" I put a finger on her lips before gently caressing her cheek.

"You're a young woman, who has spent all of her life locked away in a tower. Then on the day of you get your freedom, you're attacked by blood thirsty men who try to take you and put you back in the tower. I would be more worried for you if you weren't traumatized or angry."

"But me running off like a child on a tantrum—"

"Hey, don't beat yourself up so much. We all make mistakes. We all miss something, or over-react or act to quickly. And if you think about it… it's better we make our mistakes now than later. And the sooner we can learn from them the sooner we can move on. I mean look at me. I'm seventeen going on eighteen and I've killed dozens of people, flew into the city in the sky, saved a someone, betrayed someone, and giving that person some pep-talk. All in the same day!"

"You're seventeen?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not even my age!"

"I know and here I am giving you advice about life's hardships, and how to get on with a difficult life."

She giggled when I said that and nuzzled herself on my chest, under my neck. "Where did you ever come from?"

"You can say I fell out of the sky. Or if you'd rather, through the ceiling of your room."

"And just one more time to be clear. I apologize for that debacle earlier. And seeing things as they really are, I guess skirmishes like that will be unavoidable in the future will they?" I nodded silently. And wrapped my arm around her shoulder. "I guess I should run like child in tantrum again should I?"

"Well, not it you don't want to. Though that pouting look on you does make you look little more attractive. Not that you aren't attractive already with your brilliant blue eyes and silky—"

"_Smarmy_."

"When you think about it we're all running away from things."

"You?"

"I'm running away from—"a regular, disappointing, slightly boring, teenage life in another dimension where I'm a twelfth year student about to graduate with my college money in the scariest most volatile place. "—a lot of things. Yet, that's good isn't it. We're all running away from something, aren't we. And that keeps us moving."

"Really? Doesn't all that relentless running get you tired. No peace. No respite. Don't you think there's an alternative to all of that." I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "Confrontation. Don't always run. Find a place, stand your ground, and fight back." She turned to look at me directly. "Look your problems in the face and say No More."

"If only it was that easy."

"What are you running from? Why are you here, Simon? I mean really!"

I felt the carriage slow to a halt. And so I got up and offered her my hand as the gondola approached _Soldier's Field_. She took it and got up. It was then I hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear. "I'm like you. Different. You can say… I'm not from this world. I come from a distant place. But I also can't tell you everything." We released each other from one another's embrace. I looked her in the eye. "That's why I need you to trust me." Then there was a loud clank as the carriage locked into place.

Soldier's Field.

_Author's Note: Well here it is: Chapter 8. I hope you'll forgive me, this chapter was difficult to write. I had to go through several drafts of what the relationship between Smarmy and Ellie really is and is going to look like. And having gone through so many drafts, my proof reading might be weaker than usual. SO forgive me again! Please leave any thoughts of yours in the Reviews section or PM if you'd like._

_-T.S._


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